Call it love
by Dia-Rose-713
Summary: Four questions, so plain and though so meaningful. Four answers, so offensive and shattering. Everything’s a misunderstanding? Oneshot about Lily and James


**Title**: Call it love

**Author**: meee, DiamondOfOcean °grins°

**Beta**: patient and talented DomTheKnight and my beloved Sanni :-)

**Pairing**: Lily Evans/ James Potter

**Genre**: Romance/ Drama/ Humour (well, kind of ;-) Okay... it's more sarcasm than humour...)

**Rating**: K

**Summary**: Four questions, so plain and though so meaningful. Four answers, so offensive and shattering. Everything's a misunderstanding? One-shot about Lily and James

**Warnings**: none o.O

**Disclaimer**: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. But plot s mine.

**Author's note**: Recently I found a picture on my laptop that gave me the idea of this one-shot. Maybe you know this picture, but I'd be glad if you read my story nevertheless. Because after all the reading of Lily/James ffs and writing ffs myself for years, this one's my very first Lily/James ff I wrote - even though it's quite short. Let's say it's a snack for in between ;-)

**Call it love**

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**  
Potter. Ugh, the usual reason I am angry. If I'm ever annoyed about something, it's him. And Black. And the rest of the Marauders. Except Remus, he's kind. Minutes ago, the nuisance with the messy hair asked me if I wanted to be with him (put an end to the childish "wanna go out with me?" he probably thought). Again. He asks me every other day to annoy me, I guess. I am probably understating. To be honest, he drives me insane. And do you want to know why?Because I just can't hate him for that.

Depressing, huh? The person I'd love to hate, I can't hate because deep inside me I really like him... and maybe even love him. Okay, maybe you can't call it something pompous like love. But there're more than just friendly feelings. Not that we've ever been friends. Not at all.

Okay, I have to confess I had dated Potter some time ago. For two weeks. Then I broke up with him because I exactly knew - and still know - that he wasn't honest with me and didn't mean it. And I'm really not so desperate to just be with him in case he might love me sometime. And I don't want to see that the pain which had sparkled in his eyes was real at that time. Just a trick, I'm sure.

I don't know when I first realized that I had feelings for Potter, but they've existed for more than just a few weeks. Believe me, I'd be with him now - well, at least after I forgot my pride, since the answer has always been no - if I knew that he was honest with me. But on the contrary, I know that this is not the case. And that's why he drives me me insane with his question.

So I'm really interested in what James Potter, a perfect Quidditch player with a great physique, incomparable intelligence and incredible charisma, likes about me. I mean, I'm neither friendly to him, nor outstandingly pretty. Don't get me wrong, I'm absolutely pleased with myself, but if you asked me, I'd say one of those top bimbossuits perfectly with Potter.

Right, I don't think much of those dolls whose face you need a pneumatic drill to get through all the coats of make-up and to be scared to death afterwards. Shag bags that fly into the arms of good looking blokes and who preferably wear (artificial) golden jewels and brand clothes. Scuts. Crackers. Bimbos. Geezerbirds. And those inflate girls would be a good match for Potter.

And that's what I not am! I don't have the measures of models, I'd rather describe my figure as normal, my red hair always does what it wants and those who don't know me would call me bitch - or like this winter: Ice Princess. The only thing I'm really proud of is my eyes. Emerald green. Piercing. With the shape of almonds. I like them. Others think they're alarming. But they just think this because I always scowl at people who want to get close to me. Again, don't get me wrong, I'm not a loner or so, not really, but if I'm concentrating - and I do that most of time - I can't stand to be disturbed. It'll still take many years until Potter understands.

Which brings me to Potter again. So what is it he likes about me? My appearance and my character which he doesn't know can't be the reasons. Maybe I should ask him? Like an Ice Princess would do. Nobody would be astonished at the question because people would take it for another argument between Potter and me. Yeah, I'll do it. I will just ask him. Tomorrow. Today's the 24th of December, so he'll unwrap his gifts on the 25th. Not that I will give him a present, but when I ask him by letter, he'll be glad I dedicated him some minutes of my valuable time to write to him. At least he'll be glad ifhis interest in me is real  
And it doesn't matter how much I want to hate him, I really hope he has honest interest in me...

x-x-x

The next morning breaks and my best friend Lanie, much too enthusiastic and actually my complete opposite, throws me out of my nice warm bed to finally unwrap the gifts, and because she doesn't want to do it all alone because it would be boring. Yawning, I give in and sit up.

My glance falls onto the pile of gifts and the thought that Potter would now read my note comes to my mind. Do you want to know what I wrote? Oh, nothing spectacular, just a few questions I want him to answer.

_Potter,_

_To bore you with the nonsensical small talk of Merry Christmas would be ridiculous and hypocritical. But your begging for a relationship really annoys me, so I'd like to get some answers of the following questions:_

_Do you like me at all?_

_Do you think I m pretty?_

_Am I in your heart?_

_If I left, would you cry for me?_

_Yours,  
Lily_

I admit the letter's cold and without any kindness, but I just wanted to prevent him from thinking I was in love with him. This - if he exerts his brain - shines clearly through the questions. And somehow I don't want to get an answer anymore. I want to die. Why did I write something so embarrassing?

"Everything's alright, Lils?" Lils, waah! I hate this nickname. Potter gave it to me and Lanie thought the name is so nice, that she calls me Lils ever since. Cheek. I don't call her "Lans" or something similar, do I?

But instead of complaining about my nickname, I silently nod and reach for one of my gifts. A biro. A cheap biro. Frowning, I look at the sender. Petunia. My sister. Of course. I hope she's pleased about the nail varnish I sent her. Poison green. Like her soul is.

Books, candies, jewels and several multicoloured clothes later (why did people think I'd like to have multicoloured clothes? With my red hair, the green eyes and the pale skin I'm colourful enough, if you ask me), I laugh at Lanie who just unpacked a packet of "Tampons Extra Absorbent" from her brother, so she'd be nice one time a month. Did I mention Lanie is Potter's sister?

Suddenly someone knocked on the door. Laughing, I stand up and go to the door, but when I've finally opened it, there is no one. Stupid joke. I'll go into the common room to see who stayed at Hogwarts over the holidays. You... can test your gifts, huh? I closed the door just in time, before the content of Potter's gift for Lanie flies around my ears.

While I go downstairs, I discover a piece of paper on a step. It seems to be the letter that I gave James. The same light red paper. Oh my gosh, now I realize it: The paper's red! For Dumbledore's nose, couldn't I take blue? Ice blue?

With shaking fingers I reach for the paper and read it, while I continue going downstairs. There's not much to read. After each question Potter wrote a little "no". I knew it. I always knew. He can't stand me, in his eyes I'm ugly, I'm not in his heart at all and he'd doubtlessly laugh if I left.

Why is it devouring sadness that floods my mind and not abysmal or pure hate? Not that I really expected anything, but there has been still some hope which I've always buried deep inside myself and which has glowed at least seconds ago. But now... it faded.

Because I can't hold back the arising tears, I want to turn and run back into the girl's dormitory when I run into something. Strong arms wind around me and hold me tight. How could I walk past this person without seeing him? Was I so gripped by the fourth repeated "no"?

I don't want to know who's hugging me, I just want to be held. Never before I've laid myself open to cry in front of another person; that involves I have to kill this person afterwards. I want to free myself from the embrace, but the person doesn't want to let me go which makes me cry even more.

"Shhh," a calming voice says near my ear and I freeze. That... that's Potter! I stiffen in the hug and then I try to push him away from me, but he doesn't let go of me, his embrace tightening. "Lily... Lily! Calm down!" His hands caress my back gently and even if I don't want to, I begin to relax.

"Lily, listen to me," he whispers and his hoarse voice sends shudders over my back. "Don't you understand why I answered all of your questions with 'no'?"

I hide my face in his shoulder and shake my head weakly. "You asked the wrong questions because I don't like you, I love you. I don't think you're pretty, you're gorgeous. You're not in my heart, you are my heart. And if you left, I wouldn't cry for you... I would die for you."

Silence nurtures the corridor now. I lift my head and with reddened eyes I look at James. "Do you really... Are you serious?" I sob quietly, but he understands.

He nods. And I believe him. "Please, Lils, give me... give us another chance."

I smile weakly. "I love you, too," I breathe and that seems to be enough for him to know. He bends to me and kisses me. And this kiss expresses everything that he feels for me... that I feel for him.

Suddenly there's something cold on my chest. Confused, I come loose from James and look down. A silver thing glistens up at me. A pendant. It looks pretty expensive, but that's not worth mentioning because we're talking about James. In its setting there's a splinter of a genuine emerald. "James..." I gasp overwhelmed.

"Merry Christmas, Lils," he smiles and I start to feel guilty.

"I don't have anything for you..." I admit, feeling sad, and bow my head.

James raises my head by pulling on my chin and looks into my eyes. "I have you, Lils, there's no better gift you could have given to me."

I laugh and snuggle up to him. "Then I'm yours. Merry Christmas."

**The End**

That's it. What do you think? °smiles°

°hugs°  
Dia


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